The Right Side of the Wrong Bed
by robinsparkles14
Summary: SwanFire. Basically just a headcanon. Will probably be AU. 2 shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Right Side of the Wrong Bed

**Author:** robinsparkles14

**Rating**: R for sexytimes

**Fandom:** Once Upon a Time

**Pairing:** SwanFire (EmmaxBae)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

**Summary: **Basically a big giant headcanon

**A/N:** This fic was not voluntary. It happened without me, I swear. I was like "No, Robin, don't do it!" but then my brain was like "You have to or I will never be at peace!" So. This happened. The title is stolen from Ed Sheeran's song, "Drunk," so do not overestimate my creativity. If you have not seen promos, pictures, etc. this contains spoilers for "Tallahassee" Also, if you have read my other fic, "To Never Forget" then you will notice similarities in the two. I love that story so I did incorporate some stuff from it into this.

~xx~

The car whips around another sharp corner and Emma exhales loudly, stepping on the gas harder. The cops are far behind her now, but she is still speeding like they are right on her heels. It is a tactic she has learned in her thieving experience: You can never get too comfortable.

Emma looks behind her shoulder. No one is there, and the wailing sirens are long since passed. She lets off on the gas pedal just a bit. This car is nowhere near anything she has dreamed of. It is old, rusted, and yellow. It is also a bug, and Emma had never wanted a bug. Still, as far as stolen cars go, it is good enough.

"Oh, God!" She yells, swerving to the side, off the street and onto the sidewalk. This is just perfect. Thief she may be, but Emma Swan is not a murderer, and a crazy man has just stepped of the curb into the road. Emma slams on the brakes and puts the car in park right there on the sidewalk (which is probably a horrible decision given that it could get her a ticket and therefore lead to other things, but she has more important things to worry about.)

She gets out of the car and slams the door behind her before narrowing her eyes at the man in the street.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" She demands, "You are going to get yourself killed!"

He raises his eyebrows and gives her a lopsided smile, making his way over to her. "Sorry," he says, "I didn't have much of a choice. You were speeding like your life depended on it. Had to get your attention."

Emma rolls her eyes. "And you couldn't think of a better way to do it than risking your goddamn life!?"

He laughs and stands behind her, placing his hands on her waist. "What do you care if I risk my life, Emma?"

Her breathing becomes heavy. "Of course I care!" She says breathily, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He laughs again. "That's not very healthy, you know. An innocent young girl caring too much for an old...monster."

"You know how far I am from innocent, and I know how far you are from being old and monstrous."

"You hardly know me, Emma."

"You know me even less!" She challenges.

He snickers like that is the most hilarious thing he has ever heard. "Please," he says.

She latches onto his arm and pulls him toward the passenger door of the car. "Shut up and get in the car, Neal." Emma instructs aggressively. She does not like to say his name, mostly because she knows that he is lying about it. Emma can tell when people are lying, and she knew instantly that 'Neal Cassidy' was a phony name.

He does as he is told, and in moments, Emma is on the drivers side, driving the actual speed limit down the street. She is trying not to smile, but Neal always makes that hard. He treats her like a breakable treasure-one that he is determined to fix. She likes that about him.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't be stealing anymore," he scolds.

Emma snorts. "We did, but only when you do the same."

"That's not fair."

"Of course it's fair!"

It is, too. One thing that Emma finds weird about Neal is that he is a thief, just like she is, but he wants her to be good. She tries to let him know that it is a completely lost cause, but he is convinced otherwise, claiming he can make an "honest woman" out of her. Right. Neal has no idea of her pathetic orphan life or all the people she has hurt. He does not know that she is as far from an "honest woman" as one could possibly be.

She asks him why he refuses to be honest and good himself, if he thinks it's so wonderful, but he claims that honesty and goodness were taken from him long ago.

"What do you mean by that?" Emma had asks him when he explained this to her.

"Love is what makes us honest. When what you love is ripped from you, your honesty and goodness follow."

She had not asked him to explain. The mystery intrigued her. She wanted to keep digging into who he is herself. "Well, in that case, I should be as bad as they come. I have never loved a person in my life."

"Don't you see, Emma?" Neal had said, "That is why there is still hope for you."

Emma does not believe there is any hope for her. Once a thief, always a thief Neal can only do so much.

Emma parks the car in the alleyway behind the apartment complex. Neal smiles at her.

"You first, milady" he says.

Emma rolls her eyes behind her glasses and kicks the door of the car open, her boots make the water beneath them splash up. She inhales, feeling the water enter her lungs. Emma really hates the absurd humidity in Tallahassee. She would like to leave, really, but she cannot imagine going anywhere else.

It is because of Neal, which is completely pathetic and childish, but without him she has no idea what to do anymore. The bastard has stripped her of her independence, and yet she still refuses to have any sort of distaste for him.

Maybe it is because Neal represents everything she wants to be. He is so brave, so kind, and he cares about her. Emma has never been any of these things. She has always been scared and immature, unable to grow up and start her life because she is so convinced she cannot until she finds her family.

Neal never talks about his family, and Emma does not ask. She assumes he will tell her in time where he is from, his story, and why he is in Tallahassee. She had told him more than she has ever told anyone, so it would behoove him to return the favor.

They walk into the apartment complex, hand in hand, oblivious to the world and simply content with each other. It is a feeling Emma has searched for her whole life, and Neal is the only person who has been able to give it to her. There is just something about him...something familiar and perfect. He reminds her a bit of herself.

He reminds her of the family she was supposed to have.

~xx~

He tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and smiles that smile-the one that makes her forget everything. And in a instant, he is kissing her softly, but eagerly. It is intoxicating.

But Emma is not ready for this. Not with a man she hardly knows. Not here, now, on this couch. She has lasted this long without giving into temptation, and she refuses to give in without understanding him more. How much she wants it is irrelevant. She has much more at stake here.

"Wait...Neal..." She pants. He lets her go, but keeps his hand on her shoulder, afraid to release her completely.

"What? Are you okay?" He asks her.

She sits up a little straighter and pushes her glasses further up her nose. "Yes...I just...it's been six months...and I want this...but I don't know you, I-"

He shushes her by pressing a finger to her lips gently. "Shh! You know me plenty, Emma."

"No! I don't! You won't even tell me your name!" The statement comes out sharper than she had meant for it to, but at least she knows now that she is past the point of no return.

"My name? It's Neal, you know that!" He is such a liar. She can tell just from the tone of his voice.

"Oh, shut up, we both know that's bullshit!" Emma snaps.

"I-"

"Tell me!"

He exhales sharply and glares at her. "You would never believe me if I told you who I am. Trust me."

Emma tosses her hands into the air. "I'm not asking you to tell me who you are. I just want to know your name."

He closes his eyes, and he and Emma sit in silence for a long moment. She wants to get back to kissing him, but she cannot take his lies any longer. Even if the mystery is wonderfully scary at times, at this point it is purely frustrating.

"It's Baelfire," he mutters, "Bae, is what my father called me."

And that is when Emma sees his wall start to crumble. Simply by telling her his name, she has learned a million new things about the man she has been rooming with for six months. When he spoke of his father, she could hear the hurt in his voice. His father had hurt him. Emma might never know why, but at least she has something to understand more of now.

She smiles at him, though he is looking down, ashamed of giving into her. She places a finger beneath his chin and lifts his face to hers, resuming what he had originally started. She kisses him slowly, and more deeply than any time before. She knows what is to follow now. She has imagined it for quite some time.

He lays her down on the couch, his lips move down her neck and she sighs. She loves when he touches her. He is so much more experienced than her with this, and yet was willing to wait for her to be ready. It is another reason Emma likes him so much. Baelfire. It is definitely a stranger name than any other she has heard, but it is honest; that much she can tell. And really, honesty is all she has ever wanted from him.

Emma can feel his hands sliding underneath her dress, his fingertips grazing the inside of her thighs so softly. Wet heat builds at her center and she moans when his finger pulses there through her cotton underwear. She moves her face to kiss him again while simultaneously shifting underneath him, so as to make it easier for him to get her underwear off. She feels the wetness against her skin as he slides them down her legs.

She has never been so desperate. She has always been so tough...so independent and strong. It had become obvious that Nea-Baelfire had changed her, but this goes beyond that. He has captured her soul, forcing her to cling to him hopelessly. Emma has never been emotionally attached to anyone, having grown up without her parents. Baelfire is the first person to make her feel like she means something. Having his lips move in harmony against hers while their hips rock against each other, the skirt of Emma's dress now just above her bellybutton, intensifies this realization. Emma Swan has never felt wanted by anyone, ever, and yet here he is, holding her as if she is the only thing left in the world to hold.

Her nimble fingers hold the button of his jeans. She tugs on it, trying to get it undone without taking her mouth away from his. He pants into her mouth and moves his hands to assist her, unzipping them quickly before undoing the button. Emma pushes them down. She is terrified, but she has never felt more ready for anything.

Emma's knowledge of this is less extensive than the ordinary eighteen year old. Romance novels were not exactly just lying around at the orphanage, and sex-ed was hardly helpful. All she really knows came from kids she would hear gossiping in the hallways of her high school. And seeing as how she did not really talk to anyone, even that was limited.

Still, she never imagined it would be so short. In Emma's mind, sex should be a long event, something magical and perfect. All she got here was maybe the magic part, the part she knows she has become completely attached to him forever. However it is far from perfect, and even further from any sort of landmark event.

It is a quick fuck on the couch, which is all Emma Swan is worth anyway.

He thrusts into her, and though having him fill her this way is amazing and strange, she cries out from the pain, her hands gripping his thick, dark chocolate colored hair. His lips move to her ear and he shushes her softly. She whimpers, not exactly because of the pain, but more because she is so vulnerable to him in this moment and he is the one with all of the control. He thrusts again, and it is far less painful than the first time.

"Are you...are you alright, Emma?" he pants into her ear.

She pulls at his hair again, feeling the throbbing sensation in her nether-regions as so prominent and whimpers "Yes! Yes, keep going, please," she begs.

He does as she instructs, his thrusts becoming closer together in time as she grows tighter and tighter around him. She can feel how incredibly close she is to the edge of this, to finding some sort of release. With each thrust he makes, she moans and calls out his name until finally, he spills his seed into her and her walls collapse while she screams out underneath him.

The feeling is unlike anything she has ever experienced. It feels like she is falling, and yet she is higher above anything in the universe. Thoughts are meaningless, as is everything else she has ever experienced in her life. Baelfire has taken everything from her, and she could not thank him enough for it.

He is yelling her name as well, the sounds clashing against each other and echoing around the room. Emma had never imagined that anyone on this earth would find in them the desire to be screaming her name through ecstasy. And yet somehow, she had found that. Been given it, really, since meeting him was not something she had ever been looking for.

When the light fades and silence ensues, Emma still has her arms looped around Backfire's neck. Her head is laid back on the arm of the couch and his resting atop her chest.

Anyone who saw it would never think of it as a perfect moment-honestly, Emma does not even know if she believes it is-but perfection hides beneath layers of what may look wrong from the outside. What Emma has with Bae seems so far from what any sane person would want, but she has it now, and would never trade it for anything.

Perfection is ridiculous, really. It is subjective between people and really unachievable for that very reason. But this is Emma's perfection, and she will never see it as anything less than that.

~xx~

She is lounging on the sofa when he returns, biting her lip and digging her nails into the skin of her arms. She is completely pale, and looking like she has seen a ghost. She is not watching TV or listening to anything. She just sits, terrified and worried about some mysterious conundrum.

Bae tosses his bag high into the air and walks up beside her. "Hey," he says shyly, his hands buries in the pockets of his jeans, "Are you alright?"

She does not say anything.

"Emma?" He tries again, "Em, are you alright?"

She shakes her head, which is sort of a start.

"What's wrong?"

She shifts her position on the couch (she is sitting so oddly, her hands behind her and her back leaning against them) and swallows hard. "I don't know if I should say," she whispers.

He sits down next to her. "C'mon," he says, "It can't be that bad."

She stares up at him. He sees the tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm late," she says, so softly it is not even there.

The color drains from his face instantly and a million thoughts race through his mind. A family here, with Emma. The family he never got to have, thanks to his father's stupidity. Or maybe moving somewhere much better than Tallahassee. Somewhere with trees and forests that reminded him of home. A place their child could enjoy as he had, with a father who would never give him up for anything.

It is an amazing fantasy, but one that can never happen. As much as he wishes it, Emma cannot be everything for Bae. So he settles on telling her the last thing to cross his mind: "That's alright, it probably doesn't mean anything. It happens a lot, to a lot of girls. And it's only a few days. You have nothing to worry about."

Emma blinks at him. "It's not just a few days," she presses.

"How long is it?"

"Four weeks," she chokes out. His expression goes wild, morphing into something completely unreadable. Emma starts talking faster, "I'm so sorry, Baelfire! I was worried so I stole...I mean..." He is so distant he does not even scold her for stealing today, "I got a pregnancy test, and-"

She does not want to cry in front of him, and he can see that. Instead she finally takes her hands from behind her back and shows him it. A pregnancy test, with two pink lines across it. He stares at it and she drops her head into her hands.

"I'm so sorry, Bae," she tells him. It is the most sincere apology he has ever heard, and it is for something that is not even her fault.

"Oh...Emma," he breathes.

She look at him out the corner of her eye, though her head is still resting on her knees. She is crying now, and he can see the tears soaking into her jeans. "What?" She asks.

"I don't mind this," he assures her.

She lifts her head slightly and blinks at him. "You...you don't?"

"Of course not. You're amazing, Emma. I want a child with you."

"But...I'm so young. Why waste your time on some kid?"

It is such a stupid question. He would think that after all this, she would know that he thinks so much more of her than being "some kid." He kisses her on the forehead once before cradling her face in his hands and pushing her tear-stained hair away. "Because you mean _everything_ to me."

~xx~

The room is cold and Emma's arms are covered in goosebumps, even under the blanket. Baelfire had bought her the blanket after hours of listening to her complain about the ridiculous temperature of the apartment, and threatening to steal blankets if she did not end up with some. He had returned with this one about a week ago, throwing it at her face playfully before telling her stomach what a little nag it's mother is. Emma had given him a not-so-nice look for that comment.

Doctor's visits have been few and far between. Bae had a job back in Portland, one that caused him to leave Tallahassee on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and on the weekend, but it is not incredibly high pay, and you cannot steal an ultrasound very easily. Emma has gone twice. By herself because Baelfire had been out of town and it was the only time he could get her in. However twice was enough to let her know that she is having a boy. She can just picture him. Dark hair like his father, with green eyes and medium-sized features. The idea sounds like perfection to Emma. She wants no crazy traits to come through to her son from her parents or Baelfire's. She wants him to be her and Baelfire, with no interference from anyone else.

Baelfire swings open the door to the apartment, tossing his stuff up in the air dramatically, as he always does. He then sighs heavily and turns to Emma. "Hey," he tells her, the same nervous way he always does. It makes her feel strong, like she has turned the lion into a foolish schoolboy in love.

She rests her hands atop her stomach. She is seven months pregnant now, and definitely showing. Baelfire likes that. He likes talking to their baby and touching Emma's belly, though neither of them have decided on a name yet. Or rather, decided to share it, in Emma's case.

Baelfire had given her a couple ideas, but they were all pretty much the same.

"How about Richard? Randall? Rumford?" He had asked her. Emma had not been impressed.

"No...those don't seem right." She said, and saw his face fall a little. Apparently naming their son something with an 'R' was more important than she had presumed originally.

Either way, Emma already has a name in mind, she just does not plan on telling Baelfire until the due date. Keeping him in the dark is a new thing, since usually _he's_ the one doing it to _her_.

Baelfire walks over to Emma and smiles, sitting down next to her.

"It's still a f-fucking ice box in here." She informs him, her teeth chattering as she does so.

He laughs at her and wraps his arms around her shivering form. She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs.

"Did you feel better today?" He asks her.

She nods. "Yeah."

"Hm." He mumbles. Emma snuggles up against him. It is moments like this that she loves. Just being with him, when nothing else in the world matters. Because for the most part, he has become the whole of her life, and she likes it that way more than she is willing to admit.

"Emma?" He whispers.

"Hm?"

"When are we really going to do this?"

"What?"

"You know. Everything. Get married and buy a cute little house in the suburbs. Have a real life together."

"You don't want that." Emma says.

"You don't know what I want."

He picks her up from the couch and they are standing in the room, in a position that makes it look like they're dancing. Emma's eyes bore into Baelfire's and she says. "Okay. Tell me what you really want."

He stays frozen, only his lips moving when he says, "What I really want is you."

Emma knows she should not believe him, but she wants to so badly it hurts. "Maybe," she offers, "But you can't have me. Not seriously."

"Why not? I think you'd make a great Mrs. Cassidy. It's a good name."

She laughs softly. "You told me Emma Swan was a good name."

"Yeah," he admits, "But I like Emma Cassidy better."

Emma smiles at the ground. Truthfully, she likes it better too. But it cannot be that easy. She still has the police on her tail all the time, and he is always gone. It can't work. "Baelfire. You know it will never be that simple."

Silence ensues. And there is silence because both of them know exactly how true the statement is, but hate having to admit it. This little fairytale they have created, where the world is nonexistent and everything simply revolves around Baelfire and Emma is the only thing providing any true happiness for either of them. Admitting that at some point it will end and that they will be forced to let go is devastating. They choose to drag this out because if they are not together, their reasons for being on this earth are scarce in quantity.

Emma sighs and looks away. "We need a better story, don't we?"

He breaks the silence awkwardly, throwing his head back and laughing. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure our son won't be very impressed to hear that you stole my car and then I took you out drinking underage."

"Don't forget the part where we became partners in crime."

"And that you were only 17 years old so until last week it wasn't even legal for me to be kissing you."

"And that you still tell me nothing about yourself."

"And that both of us were completely alone."

Emma looks right into his eyes, smiling and nodding. They both just bask in the patheticness for a long moment. "Yeah," Emma mutters, "That's a pretty shitty story. You got a better one?"

He grins and nods. "Yeah. How about...it was the summer after high school ended for you. You were working in some 24 hour diner and I would come there every day and talk to you.

"Oooh, I like that. Let's make you a firefighter, too, so that you seem more heroic. And I'll be the previous prom queen, so that I seem more pretty and girlish." Emma offers.

Bae gives her a snap-point. "That's perfect! And we need something else...some kind of symbol. I mean, every story needs a memorable detail."

"Pumpkin pie!" Emma says loudly, jumping up, "You'd come into the diner every day and ask for pumpkin pie!"

"I like that! But you never had any, and I'd always complain to you!"

"But every day you'd still come back."

He smiles at her. "Yeah. I would."

She nods. "Yeah. That works. Definitely a good love story."

He winks at her. "Better than the original, I'd say. So when our future son asks me how I met his mother, that's what I'll tell him."

"You'd better! I think he'd run away if he heard the real story."

~xx~

The Wal Mart down the street is really the only place Emma has not been busted for shoplifting at, which is why she spends a ridiculous amount of time there. Especially now, when her pregnancy has practically made her ADHD and she feels desperate to get out of the freezing apartment as much as possible.

She has about twenty dollars on her, which is a lot for Wal Mart, and does not intent on stealing anything. Actually, she is here for baby clothes, and it seems an immoral thing to steal.

Obviously, a baby shower was never in the cards. Neither Emma nor Baelfire has any family around, and Emma has zero girlfriends, so it would have been a huge waste of time. Instead, she had scraped together what money she could find and marched down to Wal Mart.

The baby will be here in a month and a half, tops. Emma knows how close she is to the end of this. She feels heavy all the time and, really, she is ready for it to be over.

After picking out some justifiable garments (blue things, only three of them, since it is all 20 dollars can afford and she still has some time.) she checks out and walks around to the alley where she had parked Baelfire's car.

But the car is gone. And it it's place are four police cars.

Emma freezes. She is ready to run back inside, but she knows how caught she is. However, there is no telling whether or not these people are here for her. For all she knows, this is just a big misunderstanding and they thought the car belonged to some serial killer and they had the wrong girl.

With that hope, Emma walks toward the end of the alleyway, the bag of clothes in front of her stomach and a hopefully natural look upon her face.

One of the cops whispers to another and they both stare at Emma as she walks by. Her breathing becomes heavy and acting natural is becoming harder and harder because she is so certain they know everything she has done. She is sure that they are here to take her away, and she cannot have that happen. Not now, when she has to be there for Baelfire and for her son. Getting arrested was not even the real fear. She is more worried for her family, because she knows that she has to be there to protect them.

She takes one hand away from the shopping bag and reaches into her purse for her tiny, cheap cell phone. She is close to where the cops are standing now, and quickly sends a text to Baelfire.

_The police are here and they might be looking for me. Don't know what to do, I need you._

She tosses the phone back into her purse carefully, so as not to look nervous and frantic, but every single police officer is staring her down and she wants to crumble onto the ground and cry. She is ready to beg for their mercy. She is ready to tell them she'll return everything she ever stole and pay for what is already gone.

She is not, however, prepared to have her bag of baby clothes ripped from her hands.

"Put your hands up!" a police officer yells at her, and before she can even blink, she is staring right at the shooting end of a gun.

Emma does as she is told, blinking rapidly behind the thick lenses of her glasses.

"You're under arrest! Possession of stolen goods! You have the right to remain silent!"

The right to remain silent? She is a pregnant eighteen year old. Staying silent is not a likely outcome for this situation.

"I-I don't have any stolen good! I bought those!" she nods down at her ruined bag of baby outfits. Seeing them there, destroyed by these people, brings hot angry tears to her eyes.

"Don't talk! Anything you say can and will be used against you!" Emma takes a step back, "You are Emma Swan, are you not?"

Emma nods, which is probably a horrible idea. But she has a feeling that lying to the authorities will not result in a better way.

"You have been reported as being in the possession of a stolen vehicle. We have confiscated the vehicle and will be escorting you back to the station for further questioning," the cop says gruffly. He says it like it is nothing. Like he is not ripping her life apart as he does so.

"That car...I...no, you don't understand!" Emma pleads, "That car belongs to my boyfriend, Neal Cassidy! It's...please...you can't do this to me!"

Their faces do not change. How can they not see she is broken? How can they not find it in themselves to forgive her?

"Please," she whispers, though it comes out more like a squeak, "I need to get home. I'm...I'm only eighteen, and I'm pregnant, too. I need to be home for my boyfriend and my son. Please. Please let me go. I promise, I will never steal anything again. Ever."

At this, she sees a flicker of sadness race across their features, and she hopes that they are understanding her. But the look disappears, and it is like it was never even there to begin with.

"Miss Swan, it is our job to escort you to the police station. You have been reported as a thief and we must act upon that as courtesy to the victim."

"Victim?" she asks quizzically, "No one has been victimized."

"You stole a car. Someone was victimized by that."

The color drains from Emma's face as cold, hard realization washes over her. No. _No. _It is not possible. It cannot be possible. Baelfire would never..._never _do this to her. Especially with her pregnant with his child. Especially when she is completely lost without him. He is not capable of this. No one is capable of inflicting that much pain.

But it is so clear from the slightly sympathetic look of the police officer's face that she is not simply jumping to conclusions.

"No," Emma whispers, but the word does not really come out, "No! Who is this victim!? Who told you to find me!?"

The cop shakes his head at the ground. "I cannot disclose that information to you, Miss Swan."

Emma's hands start to shake and the angry tears she had been holding back spill over. Before she can even think or breathe or contemplate this, she lunges at the police officer, pinning him against his own squadcar and screaming.

"TELL ME IF NEAL DID THIS! WHY WOULD HE FUCKING DO THIS!?"

The other cops start pulling on Emma, but for being as weak and pregnant as she is, she does not release the cop she has pinned for a good ten seconds while she screams.

"You can't listen to him! He's a liar! He's lying about everything! I am not a bad person! HE'S A FUCKING LIAR!"

And everyone knows that she is not talking about this. About her being a criminal. It is so clear that she means everything from the past year and a half.

Baelfire has never been there for her. He was never on her side.

He never wanted to protect her.

"Restrain her!" the police officer Emma had attacked tells to the others. She tries to struggle, still yelling and crying, but they are holding her arms so tightly, and she feels cold metal handcuffs clamp around her wrists.

She is a prisoner now.

She stops crying. She stops yelling . What would be the point now that they have her. She cannot get away now, not unless she runs, and what does she have to run to? Nothing. The one thing Emma Swan had been sure that she would always count on has disappeared just like everything else she ever trusted.

She collapses onto the ground in a puddle of misery. The cop approaches her, kneeling down beside her.

"We have to drive you back now," he tells her.

Emma stares up at him, and even though she has stopped crying, her eyes are still brimming with tears. "Why did he do this?" she asks. She asks it honestly, not in a way that would hurt anyone but herself.

"I don't know," he says, reaching into his pants pocket, "But he said to give you this."

He drops a diamond ring into Emma's lap. It has a tiny paper attached to it with a piece of dental floss, and scrawled across it are two words:

_I'm sorry._

And Emma has no emotion. This ring means nothing to her. Maybe it is supposed to mean that he meant to propose, but he did not, so it is nothing but a scrap of metal to her. He may as well have given her a popsicle stick.

He could try and explain himself with this, but the bottom line is that he left his son. He is a terrible person, and even more so, a coward.

He could have had happiness with her, but he let her go in her desperate time of need because he is scared of what might happen if he allows himself to be true to her.

He had said he wanted her. He wanted a family with her and a life. None of it was true. Even if it was, he had broken his word, so it did not matter anyway.

Baelfire spoke of his father only a few times, and it had been obvious that the man had caused him tremendous pain. And yet, he did the very same thing to Emma and her son. A coward. That is what Baelfire Cassidy truly is, no matter how much he tries to prove otherwise.

"Miss Swan," the police officer says, helping her to her feet, "We must ask you to get in the car now."

She does. She walks to the car and sits in the back, dropping the ring onto the pavement as they drive away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **The Right Side of the Wrong Bed, Part 2

**Author: **Robinsparkles14

**Fandom: **Once Upon a Time

**Pairing: **SwanFire (EmmaxBae)

**A/N: **Guess who was actually responsible with her fic management today? I was! Hope you all enjoy, before it goes AU tonight.

Emma sits in the back of the squadcar, staring put the window blankly, her hands balled into fists. The cop is talking into his radio about her.

"We finally got her. Swan. Her boyfriend called it in. Yeah, he was a real keeper."

It is all Emma can do not to scream at the top of her lungs. Does this man have no feelings? Does he not understand that Emma had truly thought he WAS a keeper? So much so that...

She closes her eyes and leans her head against the car window. It is not worth it to think about Baelfire anymore. He had betrayed her, for reasons that did not make sense. He had been playing her all this time, and she had been so certain that he really did care. She grazes the sleeve of her red leather jacket. Yeah. That is some real substantial proof she has. She never even knew him. He is still a mystery to her. He had never told her anything besides his name. Now, today, he is gone from her life, and has left her with a child to care for on her own. Why she had ever trusted him was beyond her. It is not like she was in love with him, that much is obvious now. How could she love him when he had never truly loved her at all?

Emma Swan sure did not fit the prototype of a Tallahassee criminal. That much is obvious from when the car pulls up to the police station. Everyone else in handcuffs looks terrifying, like they will rip your head off if you looked at,them wrong. And sure, Emma is wearing a scowl and seems angry, but it would be hard to mark the princessy-haired eighteen-year-old as a criminal without knowing what she had done.

The police officer escorts her to a room at the back of the station and tells her to wait in there. Obviously, she tries opening the door when he leaves, but it is locked. She knows what this is. It is an interview room, one where they are going to try and get her to confess to her thieving. She finds the whole thing pretty stupid, since Baelfire had already confirmed what she did along with all the places she had stolen from. Still, if she had the opportunity to avoid prison, she is going to take it.

A dark haired man with a badge barges through the door, trying to look menacing. Emma would laugh at him if she did not feel so shitty about everything. Another man walks in behind the first, holding a laptop. He looks bored out of his mind. Apparently dealing with criminals every day is not a substantial source of entertainment.

"Take a seat, Miss Swan," the badged-cop says. Emma rolls her eyes and does as she's told. The two men sit down across from her, silent for a moment, just looking her over.

They probably still do not believe she is a real criminal. Why would they? She is a cute, if slightly nerdy-looking, blonde eighteen year old. The only thing that gives her away as trashy is the fact that she is pregnant, and showing. If only they knew.

"You know what is going to happen, don't you, miss?" The same cop asks her.

Emma folds her hands over her stomach. "Yes. I don't understand why you need to interview me about it, though."

"We wanted to ask you about your...boyfriend. Neal?"

Emma blinks the tears away from her eyes. The mention of his name is infuriating, even if it is the bullshit one he hands out. What is worse is that these people know what he did to her and still have the nerve to ask about him. "It's not my fault he got away! You can stop asking now!"

The police officer shakes his head, and the one with the laptop starts typing. "Oh, I know. And I know he hurt you, Emma. So I am going to give you a chance to tell me where he was going. He deserves to be locked up. You know that better than anyone."

"No." Emma answers quickly. It is automatic. Even if he is a pathetic asshole...even if it is all his fault she is here now...she could never give these people the satisfaction of knowing where he is. And more than that, she cannot bring herself to betray him, no matter how easy it had been for him.

The cop snickers. "No?" He says, like she has no idea what she has just said, "Well, Miss Swan, in that case, now you have another charge against you. Withholding information is obstruction of justice."

This man is ridiculous. He really thinks that holding her to another crime will make her give in to them? The very idea is sickening. The fact that he can sit there, acting like he is so much smarter and more powerful than her makes her want to scream. This is what she gets. After she finally thought she had found someone who believed in her, he tossed her back to the wolves. Happy endings only last so long.

"You already have me arrested. A few more weeks in jail won't kill me," she challenges.

The cop shakes his head. "Does he really mean that much to you, Emma? Did you even really know him?"

She swallows hard and tries to ignore his words, but they cut her like razorblades. She has already drawn the conclusion that had not known him, not really. She did not know his life, she did not even know exactly how old he was. She had liked that about him. She had wanted him to be a mystery, and now she regrets that. She regrets never knowing him for real. Maybe if she had known him...she could have made him stay.

"It's not about him," she growls.

"Ah," the cop says, eyebrows raised, "Of course." He turns to his companion, the one with the laptop, "Could you run a background check on the boyfriend, please?"

Laptop-guy nods and starts typing again before handing the laptop to the interviewer. He starts scrolling and talking at the same time. "Obviously, the theft comes up, and some minor traffic tickets...he is actually fairly clean. Jumps around quite a bit...got married, here in Tallahassee to a Miranda, suppose that's why he stayed-"

"Wait!" Emma yells, throwing her hands up, "Bael-Neal isn't married!"

The cop looks up from the computer and smiles wickedly. Shit. The look on his face says everything: he got her.

"'Fraid he is, my dear. Has been for a good year. Surprised his girlfriend didn't know that. I had this strange idea that he would be...honest with you. But, I guess that's just not in his nature."

Emma's eyes start to water behind the lenses of her glasses. He is lying. Bae could not have been married. She had been living with him. He had only left on weekends and Tuesdays...Thursdays on an off week.

Oh, God. He was married. She had not pressed the issue of where he went. She thought it was hot that he kept secrets. She liked his mysteries. They were supposed to make him different.

But instead they have just made him into an asshole.

"I'm still not...telling you anything," Emma presses, but her words sound so forced, and she knows that she is close to cracking.

"Or course you're not. It's not as if you have a reason to get revenge on him. Not like he left you like this."

She cannot let them see her cry. She cannot let them know that they have broken her. And she cannot let anyone know how badly it hurt to know Bae had really left her, alone and fucking pregnant.

That is why she stands up and kicks the chair over before running toward the door and trying to knock it down. She pushes on it and wobbles the handle with her back to it, since she still has those handcuffs on. She blinks up at the ceiling and swallows her tears and screams. She kicks the door as hard as she can, pathetically determined to escape. But, obviously, it is locked and she is trapped.

She is trapped with people who think nothing of her and a baby she will only end up letting down, just like she has let down everyone else she ever tried to please.

And she is trapped without Baelfire again.

~xx~

It has been a month now, maybe more. Really, she should not be complaining. It is not like she knows anyone who would be willing to bail her out, and a three month sentence was not that bad, considering how much she had stolen. The fine is what is really going to kill her. Still, it has been hard for an impatient eighteen year old to appreciate jailtime, especially now that she is immensely pregnant.

Honestly though, her baby-her little Baelfire-is the only thing keeping her going. Even though she has no idea whether or not she will be able to keep him safe and happy, she cannot imagine letting her child go. People here might look at her strangely when she talks to him or tell her that she does not know what she is doing, and she might let it get to her sometimes, but she knows that she needs him. If nothing else can save her now, Bae can.

It does seem crazy, wanting to name her baby after the man who ruined her life, but Emma thinks of it as a tribute to the man Baelfire should have been. Baelfire was who Emma fell for, but Neal was who turned her over to the police and destroyed her. She wants to remember him as a good person, and if her son was to be a good person then it would be a perfect symbol of who the child's father should have been.

Besides, Emma likes the name, even if no one else does. People look at her strangely when she coos it to her stomach, telling him she wants to protect him from the world, and that she will be different for him.

Emma has made her decision, and there is hardly a thing that could change her mind.

Hardly.

On Thursday, one of the guards at the prison informs Emma that she has a visitor.

She is shocked. Emma has not had a visitor here, ever. And her brain immediately starts hoping that it is Baelfire.

It is a pathetic wish, but one she cannot seem to let go of. She still wants to forgive him. She wants him to walk through the door spewing apologies and saying he will never leave her again. She wants to hear a real explanation for this. She wants to know that he never wanted to hurt her so that she can get out of here and they can run away together and things can be the way they almost were.

But it is not Baelfire who walks up to her cell. It is a woman. She has long, wavy blond hair tied up with a little black bow. She is wearing a little white pencil skirt with a powder-blue blouse, and she looks to perfect to be real. She looks almost like a preppy schoolgirl, but one who grew up and became beyond beautiful.

"Hello, Emma," she says with an obviously fake smile on her face.

"Hey," Emma says to her, not even looking her in the eye, "Who are you?"

Emma glances up and sees the woman glaring down at her. "My name is Miranda," she says her name in syllables, like Emma is just too stupid to understand proper English or something, "I am married to the man who fathered your bastard child." She speaks slowly, probably trying to sound menacing, but that definitely is not going to work on Emma.

"Still?" She asks, treating Miranda like she is the stupid one here, "Even after he cheated on you and left for half the week to visit me. And, you know what happened on those visits."

Miranda's face twists into an expression of disgust but she does not say a word.

"So, what?" Emma asks, "You came here to tell me what a whore I am? Because, honestly, I'm not in the mood."

Miranda just glares at her for a long time. "No," she says, and not exactly in a mean way, "I came to give you a piece of advice, for your own sake."

"Why would you want to help me after what I did to you? I nearly destroyed your marriage."

"Oh, I'm not trying to help *you*. I want to help your baby. I know what you think, Emma. You think you can take care of this baby all on your own. You think you can provide for him and make him happy. Let me tell you something: You. Can't."

Her words hardly make any sense. What does she care if Emma is the one to raise her son? Why would she come in here, telling her what she can't do?

"I can do whatever I want to. And I'm keeping my son."

"Why?" Miranda says sweetly, like she is truly confused, "Why would you do that when there are so many other people who are really ready for that sort of responsibility? Come on, Emma. Don't you want to give this child it's best chance?"

"I want my son to be with his mother." Emma says flatly, "I'm not just going to hand him over to someone."

Miranda laughs. Cackles, really, and grips the bars separating her from Emma. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way," she offers, "This is not a choice you have, Emma. I am here for another man. One who is searching for a child, and who asked me to find you. Now, he is going to bail you out of here today, but you have to agree to give him your baby first. Do we have an understanding."

Emma chokes on a gasp. "No," she says, "Omigod!"

Miranda smiles, "Unfortunately yes. You see, this man needs his merchandise, and you need to get out of jail. It is a two way streak, you see-"

Emma grabs Miranda's arm through the bars and gasps again. Miranda stares at her, opening her mouth to yell, but Emma beats her to it.

"No!" She says, "I don't...care. That's not why I'm..."

Miranda gets completely panicked and terrified. "What?" She asks, "What!"

Emma looks down at her stomach. "My water just broke," she whispers.

~xx~

The police officer unlocks her handcuffs and spins her around.

"Are you sure you are happy with this, Miss Swan?" he asks her.

Emma nods, though she is lying with it. Of course she is not okay with it. She had a baby yesterday, and now she has nothing. Sure, it is nice to know that she is not a prisoner to the state anymore, but now she has a million more things to worry about. She needs a job now, and a home. And even though the idea of being alone is presenting a little more appeal, she still wishes a little bit for that family she almost had.

They had gotten her to the hospital thanks to Miranda, but it was after her baby was born and taken from her.

Miranda had been struck by the look of pure heartbreak on Emma's face, and told her: "You don't have to give him up. Really, you don't. I'll just tell my client I couldn't find you."

Emma had shaken her head and dried her tears with her sleeve. "No. You're right. I'm not ready for this. Honestly, I don't think I ever will be."

Miranda had nodded, but she knew that Emma was lying. "Do you at least want to name him?" she asked, "I'm sure they will be okay with it."

Tears welled in Emma's eyes. She wants to tell her what her baby's name is, but she cannot. If she does then she will always be clinging to the idea that he is hers, and now he is definitely not. All she has done is give birth to him, but he will never be her son. He will never be her little Baelfire. "No," she told Miranda, "They can name him. He's their kid."

She nodded again and helped Emma out into the police car. Miranda rode with her to the hospital and stayed by her side all night, trying to comfort her.

"I can talk to the nurses and maybe you can hold him before you go," she offered, "You should be able to say goodbye to him."

Emma actually smiled. Even though she had gotten off on the wrong foot with Miranda, it was nice to see that she wanted to change that, and that the woman at least had some sympathy. "No, I don't want to see him. I need to start my own life. And you probably should get back to your...your husband. I bet he misses you."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "He's not even there," she admitted, "Neal left after I found out about you. Said he needed to find himself. He's an ass, Emma. We both know that now."

Emma wondered why she called her husband Neal. Obviously, she should know his real name. Or maybe she just did not think Emma knew. Or maybe he had lied about that, too. "I'm sorry," sEmma said.

"I'm not. He was never it for me. He was always distant anyway. I think it was because he was in love with you."

"I doubt that," Emma told her, "He's the reason I was in prison to begin with. He's a miserable person. He'll never be it for anyone."

Miranda had left the next morning, but told Emma to call her up if she ever had any problems, then dropped the bail money off at the police station.

"Alright," the cop standing by Emma now says, "You can go. Oh! And, uh, someone left your car in the parking lot for you."

Emma gives him an odd look, but does not question it. Instead, she takes the keys from the police officer and wanders out into the parking lot.

And sitting there, right in the middle, is Baelfire's yellow bug. The one she had stolen from him. She looks around for him, thinking that maybe he came along with it, but he is not here. Even if he was, she is beyond forgiving him. She does not need him anymore.

But even with that knowledge, she walks over to the car, lays her head on the hood of it, and cries.

She cries for what feels like an eternity, letting all of his words wash over her again.

_Because you mean everything to me_

_ what I really want is you_

_ you'd make a great Mrs. Cassidy_

Basking in his lies was something Emma never thought she would find herself doing. But it brought a certain kind of relief to her. She can be done with it now, for real. She can pretend it never happened because every piece of substancial proof from their relationship is gone from her. She does not have to remember anymore. The car is just that: a car. She had tossed away the ring he meant to give her, and their son is somewhere far away.

Crying away her memories is the best thing she can do for herself.

Finally, she lifts her head and climbs into the drivers seat of the car, leaving all of this behind.


End file.
